


joke's on you

by moonlit (dawnshine)



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Anal Sex, Begging, Bottom Han Jisung | Han, Crossdressing, Established Relationship, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Riding, Size Kink, Spanking, Top Lee Minho | Lee Know, i guess??, lowkey mentions of pet play kinda, slight exhibitionism via phone call, they are explicitly switches but this is how the cookie crumbled, yeah i think that's it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:02:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26592586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnshine/pseuds/moonlit
Summary: Jisung buys a sexy maid costume for Halloween as a joke, but then suddenly it'snota joke, and when Minho catches him trying it on he ends up getting much more than he bargained for.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 24
Kudos: 578





	joke's on you

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. the google doc for this fic is titled jisung maid WOOF WOO FWOOFBARKABRKBARK  
> 2\. [here](https://i.ebayimg.com/images/g/AEAAAOSwZl1bvCkx/s-l640.jpg) is a vague reference for his dress  
> 3\. i'm embarrassed. i hope this isn't too awful but i'm done looking at it forever. enjoy my first completed mediocre attempt at pure smut!

It was supposed to be a joke.

Jisung and his friends all decided to keep their Halloween costumes secret from each other until the party at Chan’s tonight that they’ve been raving about for weeks. Jisung had planned to show up in some stereotypical sexy women’s costume and everyone would get a big kick out of it, he’d make a big impression, some good memories, all that.

When the idea first popped into his head, he was hesitant, not quite sure how he felt about being in something so revealing and, well, undeniably _feminine._ Jisung is confident in who he is and he knows an article of clothing isn’t going to change anything about that, but there was still the matter of how he would be perceived. He didn’t mind the idea of wearing it at all really, but what would the others think?

Ultimately he decided he didn’t care, and that anyone who would think differently of him because of something so inconsequential as a piece of fabric wasn’t worth keeping around anyway. His friends are all super open-minded, too; he had nothing to worry about other than the lasting effects of society’s ideals of gender forced on him his whole life lingering in the back of his mind.

Besides, it was just a joke—more for the initial shock value than anything.

But when he laid eyes on the dress he ended up buying (he’d decided on a sexy maid concept), it started to feel less like a joke and more like something he thought he might actually enjoy wearing. No, he _wanted_ to wear it.

And now, standing in front of his full-length mirror admiring his reflection, he realizes it’s definitely _not_ a joke anymore. He _loves_ it, loves how it fits so snug against his thin waist, loves how it fans out from there just inches past his ass, short and poofy with white lace peeking out from the bottom. He loves the ruffled collar and apron, the cut of fabric just below his sternum shaped like a heart, the cuffs, the choker with the bell.

He feels so very pretty.

He wonders, with a tinge of nervousness, if Minho will agree.

Minho loves him wholeheartedly and irrevocably, and Jisung can say with full confidence that his wearing a dress won’t change that. He knows Minho will accept him no matter what, he just hopes that _maybe_ Minho will find him half as attractive as he feels.

He’d started getting ready for the party long before the package containing the dress arrived, too excited to just sit around and twiddle his thumbs. He’d styled his black hair up off of his forehead, done his makeup, and even shaved his legs (which is nothing too out of the ordinary, just a chore, but Minho always enjoys it).

So here he stands, all dolled up with nowhere to go—until Minho arrives and gets dressed in his own top-secret Halloween costume and they head off to meet their friends at Chan’s party, anyway.

His stomach twists with anticipation at Minho’s reaction as he decides to busy himself with slipping his black thigh-highs on, savoring the way they slide up his skin, smooth and silky from lotion. He’s got his legs going for him at least, if Minho isn’t into the whole dress thing. 

Oh god, what if he laughs at him? That’s why he wanted to wear the dress in the first place, to shock his friends, make them laugh. It’s suddenly personal now though, and while he knows Minho wouldn’t laugh if he knew how good Jisung felt in it, Minho won’t know unless he tells him and he’s more than a little embarrassed to admit just how much he likes it.

He follows up with the garters after examining them in bewilderment, trying to figure out how to put them on. The metal heart centerpiece is cool against his thigh as he secures the clips to his stockings, sliding off the bed to get a good look at himself in the mirror again and _god,_ he feels sexy.

He spins around, craning his neck to look at his reflection from behind. The ribbon in the back is tied poorly from the awkward angle and his inability to tie a nice bow, but otherwise he likes what he sees. He twirls around, smiling giddily at the way the short dress billows out around him, lace and all.

He’s on his second twirl when he stops in his tracks, color draining from his face and heart stuttering in his chest.

There Minho stands, leaned against the doorframe of their bedroom with his arms folded and head tilted cryptically. Jisung hadn’t even heard him come home; the bastard is as quiet as his cats (when they aren’t hungry or going apeshit at 3am). Minho offers a faint smile when their eyes meet, and the slightest bit of tension bleeds out of Jisung at the sight.

When Jisung talked about the ‘funny Halloween costume’ he had planned, this is the last thing Minho could have expected. The way he looks is far from funny, it’s _criminal_ how amazing he looks, actually, but judging by the way Jisung checks himself out, he doesn’t think Jisung expects it to be humorous anymore either.

“How…” Jisung clears his throat. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough.” Minho pushes off the doorframe and crosses the room to stand before Jisung, his expression unreadable as his eyes drag over Jisung from head to toe. What’s the point of putting on such a pretty dress when one look like _that_ from Minho makes him feel completely naked? “I wouldn’t have minded watching a little longer, though.”

And then Minho pulls him close and plants a gentle kiss to his forehead that calms Jisung exponentially, nearly making him melt.

“Is this the ‘hilarious costume’ you’ve been planning all this time?” Minho asks, flicking the bell on Jisung’s choker. Jisung hopes the soft tinkling drowns out the sound of him swallowing as he feels a blush creep up to rest on his cheeks.

“Yes…?” Jisung offers weakly. Minho raises an eyebrow. “W-Well, at first, but then, uh… I kinda… I don’t know. I guess I got carried away. It’s stupid, right? Maybe I should just wear something else—”

“No,” Minho cuts him off, surprising them both with the urgency in his tone. “It’s not stupid,” he says more evenly, and then his hands are on Jisung’s waist, gently spinning him around to face the mirror again and tightening his hold. “You look so fucking good, baby.”

Jisung’s breath catches at the compliment. Minho isn’t normally big on using pet names outside of sex, so when he does call Jisung _baby_ or things like _darling_ and _love,_ it always makes something within him flutter.

His stomach is fluttering, too, with relief and anticipation at the revelation that Minho does in fact think he looks good and at the unadulterated _want_ in his eyes as he wraps his arms around Jisung’s small waist before pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear that makes him shiver.

“Yeah?” Jisung breathes.

Minho only hums in response, and Jisung feels a tug around his midsection which tells him Minho is untying the ribbon in the back. He almost visibly deflates, thinking Minho is working towards taking the dress off, but then Minho’s head is dipping to see what he’s doing as he starts to tie it properly. He pulls the ribbon too tight around him, making Jisung gasp softly.

“Good?” he asks lowly, breath hot on Jisung’s ear.

“Tighter.”

So close to Jisung’s ear, he can hear the way the older’s breathing stutters before he obeys, pulling it almost suffocatingly tight around Jisung’s waist and making him look even tinier in front of his boyfriend while he finishes tying the bow.

“Fuck, you look amazing,” Minho whispers when he finishes, admiring his handiwork while fingertips dig into Jisung’s constricted waist.

“You really like it?” Jisung asks hopefully, as if the way Minho’s gaze stays glued to his reflection with eyes half-lidded isn’t proof enough. “I was worried you’d…”

“I’d what?” Minho prompts, frowning.

“Think it’s weird, or laugh or… I dunno.” Jisung folds his arms and starts to curl in on himself.

Minho scoffs against his neck, giving him goosebumps. His hands slide from Jisung’s waist to his hips and pulls them flush against his own.

“The only thing that’s funny is the fact that you thought we’d make it to the party when you look like this.”

Jisung’s immediate response is to shudder with excitement. He almost wants to argue, then; he’s really been looking forward to going out and drinking and having fun with their friends, but they have plenty of time left before they need to leave, and he doesn’t think he can deny Minho anything when he gets like this regardless.

It’s a rare treat when Minho is on the more demanding end of what Jisung has mentally dubbed his horny scale. While Minho certainly has a healthy sex drive, Jisung’s is… well, much more active, so Minho isn’t left wanting by any means, but it’s certainly nice to be wanted.

Oftentimes when Minho is the one to initiate things, it’s when Jisung unintentionally neglects their sex life for uni work or his poor sleep schedule, resulting in Minho throwing himself at him, needy and whiny. Jisung has been woken up much earlier than he’d like more times than he can count with Minho nuzzling into the crook of his neck, pleading for Jisung to _wake up, let me ride you, please, I’ll do all the work, promise_ —and that’s simply an offer he can’t refuse.

Even when Minho isn’t riding him, Jisung ends up on top most often anyway, which is more than fine. Minho loves his dick and Jisung loves fucking him, prefers it most days even. Still, he’ll admit in a heartbeat how much he loves being manhandled and fucked by his boyfriend when the mood is right. And this is _the mood_ if he’s ever seen it.

So he arches his back and presses his ass into Minho’s crotch, a little disappointed that he can’t feel him properly through the layers of lace but fairly certain he’s at least semi-hard judging by the sharp intake of breath the action elicits.

Jisung turns his head to pull Minho into a kiss, sighing happily when their lips finally meet. Minho’s hand travels down to apply the slightest bit of pressure to Jisung’s clothed cock, encouraging him as he grinds back onto Minho. Jisung nearly pouts when Minho removes his hand but gasps into his mouth when his hands grope Jisung’s chest instead, fingers tracing around his nipples through the fabric, painfully gentle. He needs _more._

 _“Minho,”_ he whines while Minho attaches his lips to the base of his neck. Jisung reaches for his own dick for some relief only to be stopped by Minho’s hand on his wrist. He pulls Jisung’s arms behind his back and holds them there with one hand while the other snakes around front to slip under his dress and palm him.

Jisung feels himself twitch from the sight alone, the feeling of Minho restraining him and finally touching him through his—oh, right, he’s wearing panties, huh?

Minho freezes when he makes contact with the fabric, releasing his hold on Jisung’s wrists and detaching himself from his neck to give his full attention to the mirror in front of him as he lifts Jisung’s dress up to confirm his suspicions—Jisung is wearing a silky, lacy pair of blank panties, gorgeous against his tan skin and already sporting a little wet spot. Minho is _reeling._

“Fuck, Jisung,” he chokes out. “You went all out, huh?”

“What do you think?” he asks shyly, turning around to face him, and how could Minho think he’s anything but perfect when he smiles at him like that?

So he says just that. 

“You’re perfect.”

“Not me, the… you know, the—”

“Perfect,” Minho repeats, pulling him flush and trying to pour every ounce of love, every bit of admiration he has for Jisung into the way he kisses him, once, twice, three times. Minho has never been spectacular with words; he hopes Jisung can feel just how much he means it.

Jisung throws his arms around Minho’s neck while Minho kisses him like he’s afraid he’ll disappear into thin air. Jisung isn’t going anywhere though, except maybe the bed when Minho’s hands grip his thighs firmly and hoist Jisung up to wrap his legs around him.

Minho stumbles backwards and spins them around, and Jisung is dropped unceremoniously on his back. Jisung bites his lip while he watches Minho fumble with his own pants, movements rushed and clumsy. It’s been a while since he’s seen him so _eager,_ and Jisung swells with pride knowing he’s the cause, he’s the only one that can get Minho like this.

“Someone’s excited,” he quips.

“I mean, shit, can you blame me?”

Jisung giggles. “No, but hurry up. Want you.”

And Minho would be out of his mind to deny that request, he thinks. His pants are hurriedly disposed of and he’s crawling over Jisung, collecting his hands to be pinned above his head by just one of Minho’s. Jisung wiggles around just to feel Minho press his wrists harder into the mattress, and _god_ how he fucking loves feeling so powerless under his hungry gaze.

Minho’s kisses are equally as ravenous, tongue delving into Jisung’s mouth and tasting every bit of him he can reach. He moves down to his jaw, then his neck, and Jisung can only squirm and sigh while he sucks the sensitive skin hard enough to leave angry red marks behind.

“Minho…” Jisung chides half-heartedly, knowing the others will give them shit for it later but loving the evidence and feeling of Minho on his skin too much to stop him.

He hums, unapologetic. He stops at the heart-shaped hole in the dress to place a loving kiss in the center of Jisung’s chest, regrettably releasing his hold on Jisung’s wrists as he slides down lower, lifting the skirt of his dress from the bottom to kiss up his thighs and suck on the soft skin there, too.

“You shaved,” he comments, soft hands running along Jisung’s silky skin.

“For you,” Jisung says.

Minho hums against his inner thigh, so close to his aching cock but refusing to give him relief just yet. “You planned for everything, hm?” He inches closer, breath hot through the thin fabric of Jisung’s panties. “Got anything else up your sleeve?”

“I’m afraid that’s it. Oh, actually—” Jisung remembers there actually is _one_ more thing that slipped from his mind, looking around. “I didn’t get around to putting these on since you were watching me like a creep.” 

He sits up, pointedly ignoring Minho’s protests of _you looked like you were enjoying yourself, I didn’t want to interrupt,_ and reaches for the end of the bed where it lay discarded: a headband with cat ears and a white ruffle that matches that of his dress. Honestly, even before getting sidetracked he’d considered not wearing them, thinking it was too much, but now he feels silly for doubting it after seeing the way Minho lights up, a glint in his eye.

Of course he’s into the fucking cat ears.

“Well?” Minho prompts. With cat ears in hand and Minho blinking up at Jisung so cutely, expectant, his mind runs wild with the alternative.

“You want them?” Jisung asks, offering the headband. Then, grinning smugly, “Kitten?”

Minho pouts scornfully, but he’s betrayed by his blush. It’s a relatively new discovery that he gets off on the pet name—Jisung, much like in the current situation, started it as a joke, a fond _kitten_ whispered with a giggle in Minho’s ear when he nudged his head into Jisung’s hand to be pet. Minho’s reaction was… unexpected, but far from unwelcome. 

Really, it’s a wonder they hadn’t brought cat ears into the equation sooner. 

But while Minho isn’t opposed to the idea, it would feel like a crime to steal away such an integral part of Jisung’s getup. “Next time,” he promises, pushing them back towards Jisung. “I want you to wear them.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Jisung says, slipping the ears onto his own head.

Minho didn’t think he could get any cuter, but here Jisung is in his pretty makeup, frilly dress, garters, thigh-highs, and to top it all off, _fucking cat ears._

He wants to make him fall apart. He wants to make Jisung scream his name, cry from pleasure, see makeup running down his face, completely and utterly _ruin_ him—

And then Jisung’s eyes open wide and his lower lip juts out in a pout as he raises his hands to his chin, balled into fists to imitate paws as he lets out his best high-pitched _meow,_ because of course he does.

Fondness bubbles up within Minho’s chest and escapes in the huge smile that overtakes his face as he all but tackles Jisung back down to kiss him silly.

“You like them that much?” Jisung laughs breathlessly between kisses.

“Not the ears,” Minho says, punctuated with a peck on his nose. “Well, yeah, I do like the ears. But mostly you. You’re so cute.” He kisses him again, soft and sweet. “I can’t wait to fuck your cute ass.”

“Fuck,” Jisung groans, flushing bright red. He ruts up against Minho's thigh, whining. “Get on with it then.”

Minho clicks his tongue, ignoring the way Jisung's breathy whines go straight to his cock. “Ask nicely and I’ll think about it.”

Jisung could argue that that’s stupid, because it’s obvious Minho wants him just as badly no matter how much he tries not to show it, but it would only make things more difficult for him in the end, so he acquiesces. _“Please_ touch me, baby, I want you so bad.”

Instead of giving him what he wants right away, Minho pulls away and slips off the bed to reach into their nightstand and pull out a familiar bottle. “Condom?” he asks.

“No,” Jisung responds a little too fast. He isn't keen on dealing with cleanup, especially considering they're already likely to run late, but he wants this to be perfect, wants to feel every bit of Minho in him.

The bottle is tossed on the bed as Minho climbs over him again, hands running up Jisung's thighs reverently before fingers hook into the waistband of his panties and pull, the silky fabric gliding down his skin and making him shudder with anticipation.

“Grab a pillow and spread your legs for me, baby,” Minho instructs gently, voice slightly strained as he squirts some lube onto his fingers and lets it warm. Jisung obeys, settling a pillow underneath his tailbone and making space for his boyfriend between his legs. The action earns him a _good boy_ that makes him that much more desperate for Minho's touch.

“Please…” he whimpers. Minho stops a moment to take in the sight before him, Jisung's flushed cock pressed into the lace of his dress, face pleading, lip caught between his teeth while Minho takes his sweet time and pretends like he isn't just as desperate, untouched and straining in his boxers.

Minho decides to finally give him some reprieve, leaning down to push the dress aside, taking him into his hand and pressing a soft kiss to his leaking tip. Jisung's hands fly to the skirt of his dress, pushing it flat against him for a better view, met with the sight of Minho smiling up at him for only a moment before he takes him into his mouth and sinks down, the warmth and pressure making Jisung throw his head back with a low moan.

A lubed finger circles around his entrance while Minho bobs his head, painstakingly slow as he tries to concentrate on two things at once. His finger pushes in, making Jisung jolt from the coolness and the intrusion, but soon enough he's relaxing around it and rocking his hips in a plea for more.

“Another,” he pants, hand tangling in Minho's hair and dragging his fingernails lightly across his scalp the way he knows Minho loves, earning a hum around his cock that makes his hips stutter.

Minho eases in his middle finger then, giving Jisung a moment to adjust to the stretch while he licks up the underside of his cock, watching him through his eyelashes. Jisung is so gorgeous like this, he thinks, a work of art, his face flushed and eyebrows upturned in pleasure and soft moans spilling freely from his lips, swollen from being kissed and bitten.

Minho pulls off to fist his dick instead, fingers working to scissor him open, angling upwards to the spot that makes Jisung's back arch sinfully, Minho watching in admiration as he keens.

“Fuck, Minho, right there,” he pants, like Minho doesn't know, like Minho doesn't have his entire body mapped out and know how to make him _scream._

“Oh?” Minho asks teasingly. “Here…?” He thrusts harder, faster, angled just so to brush against the spot torturously, just enough to drive Jisung wild. He’s left to scramble for purchase, grabbing fistfuls of the bedsheets as he cries out _fuck, yes, another._

Minho slips a third finger in carefully, sliding in without much resistance. He pumps him at a leisurely pace, both the hand on Jisung's cock and the fingers within.

 _“Faster,”_ Jisung demands, rocking his hips when Minho makes no effort to speed up. Minho stills his hand to watch Jisung fuck himself on his fingers, feeling his own cock twitch at the sight, at how well Jisung uses his hips.

“Up…” he pleads and Minho has little choice but to obey, angling his fingers up and letting Jisung use them in a poor attempt to hit that little bundle of nerves, face contorting in frustration when he has little luck. He looks so desperate and beautiful that Minho is tempted to just let him keep going at it, but he ultimately takes pity and rams his fingers in again, hitting his prostate head-on so suddenly that Jisung practically spasms, biting down on his lip so hard it hurts.

“Good?” Minho asks, a little breathless just from watching Jisung fall apart at his touch.

“Yes, good,” Jisung chokes out, “so good. Please— _fuck_ , want it so bad.”

“Tell me what you want,” Minho says sweetly, slowing his pace as he brings Jisung’s leaking cock to his mouth again to suck lightly on the head, making Jisung squirm.

“Please,” he gasps, trying to rock back onto Minho’s fingers and speed up his torturously slow pace only to have him slip them out, Jisung whining at the empty feeling.

“Please what?” Minho asks before flattening his tongue and dragging it across the underside of his cock, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. God, he’s insufferable.

“Please _fuck me,”_ Jisung whimpers, threading his hand back into Minho’s hair and tugging as he goes down on him. “I— _ah,_ want you to fuck me, baby, please.”

“Tell me how you want me to fuck you,” Minho says, voice low and raspy and his breath hot on Jisung’s glistening cock.

“Minho…”

“Or maybe I could just get you off like this?” Minho muses, not meaning it in the slightest. He doesn’t think he’ll survive if he doesn’t get his dick wet soon, but teasing Jisung is too much fun, too gorgeous a sight to pass up.

“No, no,” Jisung argues hurriedly, even as he thrusts up into Minho’s fist. _“Please._ Want you so bad, _fuck.”_ Two slick fingers push past Jisung’s entrance without warning, making him jerk and whine in surprise. 

“But you’re so beautiful like this,” Minho says, fingers dragging lightly over his swollen prostate and drawing moan after moan out of his lover. Minho presses a gentle kiss to his inner thigh before sucking the spot harshly, unable to resist grinding into the mattress with Jisung’s pretty mewls filling his ears. “So desperate for me.”

“Mm, you know where I’d look even better?” Jisung asks, lower lip dragging between his teeth as he looks down on Minho, eyes half-lidded in an admirable attempt to seduce the older and get him to stop _fucking teasing._

“Oh?” Minho grins, his movements slowing to a stop. “Where’s that?”

“In your lap, fucking myself on your cock,” Jisung says simply, and Minho feels himself flush from his shamelessness as Jisung’s hand runs down the side of Minho’s face to tilt his chin up. “Don’t you think, baby?”

Minho nearly caves, nearly melts until _he’s_ the one begging, pleading for Jisung’s touch, his warmth around him, holding on to the last bit of control he has so as to not give Jisung the upper hand. 

He’ll have it in the end, though. He always does.

Minho supposes he’ll just have to enjoy it while it lasts.

“Is that all?” Minho asks, crawling to hover over Jisung, hands braced on either side of his head. Jisung’s shaking fingers slip under the waistband of Minho’s boxers and tries to yank them down as best he can from this angle. Minho leans in, close enough to have Jisung craning his neck to try to close the gap but pulling away, earning a little frustrated noise. “You want me enough to do all the work yourself, hm?”

 _“Minho,”_ he whines, blinking up at him with wide, sparkling eyes and a pout that brings all of Minho’s defenses down in one fell swoop. “Don’t you want to take care of me?” A hand is suddenly pulling Minho’s length out of his half-off boxers, the pad of Jisung’s thumb running over the slit and nearly making Minho collapse on top of him as he’s finally touched.

Minho huffs out a breathless laugh. “Make up your mind,” he hisses, leaning in to kiss Jisung’s eager lips and muffle his own moans as Jisung jacks him off jerkily.

“Okay, let me clarify,” Jisung says, releasing Minho and sitting up to push him back towards the headboard and the pile of pillows that lay there. He’s pulling off Minho’s shirt and tugging his underwear the rest of the way off before he can even get comfortable against the pillows, chucking them across the room impatiently before crawling up to straddle him, taking Minho back into his hand. “I want to ride you until I can’t anymore, and then I want you to throw me down and fuck me within an inch of my life.”

Minho almost chokes on his spit. “Jisung, holy shit,” he croaks, sliding his hands up the younger’s thighs, almost comically small compared to his own. Jisung scoots up to align his own cock with Minho’s, pumping them in tandem and taking advantage of Minho’s open mouth to dive in and kiss him sloppily, sucking his tongue, lips, anything he can get his mouth on.

He ends up nibbling at Minho’s ear as he blindly reaches for the lube. “Can you do that for me, kitten?” he whispers, smiling when he feels Minho shudder.

“Yes,” Minho gasps, hands snaking around to Jisung’s ass, encouraging him as he grinds their cocks together. “I-I mean, I don’t know about the whole ‘within an inch of your life’ thing, but it _sounded_ hot.”

“That’s all that matters,” Jisung laughs, squirting lube into his hand and letting it warm. “Okay, how about this: fuck me so hard I can feel it for a week.”

Minho clicks his tongue, pretending to think. “I can do two days, tops.”

“It’ll have to do,” Jisung sighs, bringing his hand to Minho’s aching cock and slathering it with a generous amount of lube, Minho’s fingertips digging into his ass. Jisung lifts himself up and inches closer, buzzing with excitement and _want_ as he lines Minho up with his hole, lip caught between his teeth.

 _“Fuck,”_ Minho breathes, watching his tip be swallowed up by Jisung’s tight hole while the younger’s mouth falls open and face twists in what he hopes is pleasure. He brings a hand up to caress his cheek. “Okay, love? Take your time.”

Jisung nods vigorously, turning and taking Minho’s thumb into his mouth to distract himself from the slight sting of being stretched out. Jisung is longer, but he always forgets how _girthy_ Minho is until his dick is in his ass. The pain is only slight though, and soon enough mixes with the pleasure enough for him to sink down lower.

“So tight,” Minho gasps. “You feel so good, baby.”

Jisung hums, releasing Minho’s thumb to guide his hand to Jisung’s cock. “Touch me,” he pleads, and Minho does so instantly, gathering his ample precum to make the slide easier as he pumps him slowly.

“Can you hold your dress up, angel?” Minho asks. “I wanna see you better.”

Jisung nods again, gathering the skirt of the dress in his hands just in time for Minho to see him drop the rest of the way onto him, both sighing as Jisung sits flush against his hips, stilling to adjust to being so wonderfully full.

“You’re so sexy,” Minho says. “I can’t get over how good you look. Fucking breathtaking.”

Jisung keens at the praise, rolling his hips in slow circles. He can’t help but dwell for a moment on how Minho has been surprisingly vocal. It’s something he’s worked on since they got together, quiet by nature but knowing how much Jisung thrives on the validation, loving how much he gets off to his voice and praise. 

Still, this is more than usual; the maid dress must be getting to his head. Or maybe it’s the cat ears.

Minho looks at Jisung—not the dress, not the ears—so reverently though, like he could go his entire life without doing anything else and be happy. Jisung finds himself suddenly being overwhelmed with love. Minho fills him so well, fits him so perfectly in every sense of the word—like they were made for each other. Like soulmates.

“I love you,” Jisung says, throwing himself at Minho and connecting their lips in a slow, loving kiss, then another, and another, a whispered _I love you too_ somewhere in between. Jisung’s hips pick up a steady rhythm of rolling just enough to have them gasping softly into each other’s mouths, shared breaths making Jisung feel so, so close to Minho and somehow not close enough all at once.

He takes Minho’s lower lip between his teeth and pulls, releasing it and soothing across the abused spot with his tongue before he licks into his mouth one more time, kept there when Minho latches onto his tongue with his pretty lips and sucks. Jisung groans softly, willing himself to pull away to focus his efforts elsewhere but too addicted to the feeling of Minho’s lips and tongue to do much more than grind his hips as he’s kissed.

Finally he pulls away, chuckling and obliging Minho when he chases his lips for one more kiss. He clamps down on his lip and braces himself on Minho’s shoulders, lifting himself up and dropping back onto Minho’s cock with a soft moan.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Minho grunts, fingers absentmindedly hooking themselves in Jisung’s garter belts. It takes all the power within him to not thrust up into the younger, letting him set the pace for now. 

“I’ve barely moved,” Jisung laughs breathlessly, hips slowly rising and falling again and again, gradually picking up speed.

“You just feel so good— _ah.”_ His fingers dig into what little meat there is on Jisung’s thighs, grip bruising. He admires the way the little black belts fit so tight, soft skin bulging at the edges from their grasp on his thighs. “I like these.”

Jisung hums, hands sliding to Minho’s chest to lightly tease his nipples, smirking when he hears the sharp intake of air. “What else do you like?”

Minho follows the belt down to where they’re clipped into his thigh-highs, slipping a finger in and pulling to let the fabric snap back on his skin. “I like these.” Hands run back up Jisung’s thighs and around to grab his ass, kneading the skin. “I _love_ this.”

“Not what I meant,” Jisung tries to huff, but it comes out as more of a whine when Minho slips out of him and he has to reach around to push him back in, eyes fluttering as he pushes down again, again.

Minho bites back a moan. “Fine. I love your little dress. You look too good to be true,” he says, and Jisung wears a pleased smile in response to the praise. Minho means it with every fiber of his being; Jisung looks like a wet dream come true riding his cock. Minho’s hands come to rest lightly on his cinched waist before clutching it tight. “Fuck, can you even breathe in this thing?”

“It’s a little… constraining,” he admits, purposely flexing his abdominal muscles to feel the fabric tighten even further around his skin, Minho’s deftly-tied bow squeezing him tight. The pressure somehow turns him on even more, though concern flashes across Minho’s features. “Don’t worry, I like it.”

“Tell me if that changes,” Minho says, because as much as he likes how insanely tiny Jisung’s waist looks and feels in his hands, breathing takes a bit of a priority, especially during something as arduous as sex. His waist is plenty tiny enough on its own anyway. 

He doesn’t have time to dwell though, because soon enough his hands are slipping down to grip Jisung’s hips and help guide him as he starts fucking himself on Minho’s dick in earnest, arms looped around Minho’s neck and using his shoulders and even his hair for leverage. Shameless moans and curses spill past Jisung’s lips with every drag of Minho’s cock within him, every too-gentle _thump_ of skin against skin, the bell at his neck jingling with the movement.

“Shit, Jisung,” Minho hisses. He tries to keep his own hips planted on the mattress, wants to hold back until Jisung is coming apart at the seams, until he’s sweaty and desperate and begging to be taken care of, to be fucked hard like he wanted—but he feels so fucking _good,_ Minho can’t help himself from feebly rolling his hips to meet him with each bounce.

Jisung’s movements eventually begin to falter, underused leg muscles trembling from the exertion. “Please, please…” he whispers, leaning in and tugging Minho’s hair to bare his neck and lick and suck at his jaw, his ear, neck, anything he can get his mouth on before crashing their lips together and panting in his mouth. 

“Please what?” Minho asks, snapping his hips up into Jisung hard as the younger lets out a filthy moan. 

“Minho, please, _fuck me—”_

“Already, baby?” he teases, hands roaming from Jisung’s hips to grab at his ass cheeks, giving an appreciative squeeze before slamming him down on his cock, Jisung’s back arching with a cry before he slumps over onto Minho. “I thought you were gonna ride me till you couldn’t anymore?” he says, low in Jisung’s ear, a dangerous edge to his voice that makes the younger shudder.

“I can’t— _fuck,_ you know I have twigs for legs, Minho—”

“Shh, you’re doing great, baby. Just a little more, you look so pretty in my lap.” 

Jisung groans exasperatedly but flushes at the praise, trying to gather up the strength to give Minho a good show before he throws in the towel and Minho (hopefully) throws _him_ down and fucks him senseless. 

He pulls himself up from Minho’s shoulder, leaning in to meet him in a messy kiss, all tongue and spit, while his aching muscles work to build up a rhythm again, bouncing on Minho’s dick like his life depends on it. Minho’s hands on his ass help, bringing him down hard each time and making him moan into the older’s mouth. 

Jisung’s hands scramble for purchase on the headboard behind Minho, looming above him while the latter looks up at him with entire galaxies in his eyes. 

“Fuck, I love you,” Minho breathes, taking in the sight of his beautiful Jisung, sweat beading on his tan skin and making him _glow_ even more than usual, brow furrowed and gaze lowered in concentration. He’s so goddamn perfect. “Just like that. You’re doing so good, baby, feel so amazing.”

Jisung’s neglected cock twitches at the praise, at the breathless raspiness in Minho’s voice as he looks up at Jisung like he’s the goddamn eighth wonder of the world.

His muscles are screaming at him to quit, but his desire to please Minho is louder.

“I love you, I love you so much,” he slurs, barely coherent between his heavy breaths and moans as his and Minho’s combined efforts gradually become mostly Minho’s alone, hands digging into his ass hard enough to bruise. _“Fuck,_ Minho, I can’t—”

“You did so good for me,” Minho consoles genuinely, planting his feet on the mattress behind Jisung. “You were perfect.”

 _God, fuck, holy shit, **yes** , _is all he can think when Minho’s hands find his hips again, holding him tight while Jisung’s entire body buzzes back to life with excitement. He realizes too late the words had slipped right past his lips judging by the way Minho grins cockily up at him.

“You want it that bad?”

And here he fucking goes _again_. Just when Jisung thinks he’s about to get what he wants (well, he _did_ say he wanted to ride Minho until he couldn’t anymore, but that aside), Minho is going to tease and tease until he’s on the verge of tears and begging for him to fucking _fuck_ him already. 

“Lee Minho I swear to g—”

He’s cut off by the moan that rips from his throat when Minho slams into him, immediately picking up a bruising pace with hands so tight on his hips, hurting so good that all Jisung can do is let his mouth hang open and cry out loud enough to warrant noise complaints from the neighbors. Minho throws his head back and moans, Jisung’s oh-so-pretty sounds and tight warmth around him making him see stars.

“Fu-uck, Minho, that’s good,” Jisung splutters, voice wavering from the force of being pounded into and his labored breathing. “So good, so good, fuck, you’re so strong.”

It isn’t what Minho expected to hear, and he’d probably laugh if it didn’t go straight to his dick and make him let out a low moan. 

Though it took him off guard, Minho gets it, really. He knows how much Jisung loves being manhandled and roughed up, and he shares the sentiment, even, especially after Jisung had started working out and got those arms. God, those fucking _arms—_

He shakes off the thoughts, tears his gaze from Jisung’s bulging bicep, focuses on fucking him hard and good, thriving on Jisung’s blissed out expression and the sounds he continues to make, mixing with Minho’s own. 

Jisung all but collapses onto Minho’s chest, nails digging into his shoulders and rocking back and forth with the significantly more difficult angle at which Minho fucks into him. Jisung lets out a strangled moan at the friction of his cock rubbing against Minho’s stomach while Minho latches onto his neck and adds more to his blooming canvas of marks. 

He knows he isn’t hitting Jisung’s prostate like this despite how vocal he’s been, and Minho itches with the desire to please his lover and fuck him good, so he slows to a stop and pats Jisung’s thigh indicating for him to get up. 

“I can’t,” Jisung complains, practically wheezing and legs aching. If he has an ulterior motive, that’s for him and him alone to know. “I can’t move. Can’t fucking breathe either.”

“I have an idea,” Minho declares, lips curling into his signature feline grin as he lifts Jisung off his dick enough for it to slip out, earning a petulant whine. He then reaches around to tug at the neatly-tied ribbon on Jisung’s back, and the younger wants to complain but the big, unobstructed gulp of air he takes feels too good to argue. 

“Better?” Minho asks sweetly, pressing a chaste kiss to Jisung’s lips, making him pout.

“I guess. Is that it?” he asks with a frown, far from subtle as he rolls his hips weakly. He’d hoped Minho’s idea would be something along the lines of flipping them over and fucking his brains out because his erection is damn near painfully hard at this point and does he need to start begging again because he’s seriously about to—

“No,” is all Minho says before his hands slip under Jisung’s thighs to grapple him off of his lap and onto the bed with ease, and with a yelp from Jisung who is left lying on his stomach in a flash. “Tell me if you don’t want it, though.”

“I want it,” Jisung responds instantly. He’d put his life in Minho’s hands; his pleasure, doubly so, because no matter how torturous his teasing can be, in the end he always makes Jisung feel so fucking _good._

“Let me show you what it is first.” Minho giggles, but his voice is entirely void of humor when he says, “Hands behind your back.”

 _“Oh,”_ Jisung breathes, quickly obeying and joining his wrists at the small of his back. 

“Good boy,” Minho coos with a pat to his head that makes his dick twitch beneath him. He whimpers, shifting slightly to try to give it some friction without being too obvious. Minho knows what he’s doing, of course, but he allows it.

Then Minho is taking the thick white ribbon hanging loose from his waist into his hands, looping it around each of Jisung’s wrists and securing them to his back before tying another neat bow on top. Jisung lets out a shaky breath, knowing he was right (as always) to trust Minho’s judgment. 

“Okay?” Minho asks softly as Jisung wiggles his wrists around, finding the ribbon surprisingly tight. Good. 

Jisung nods eagerly. “Okay. Good. Really good,” he says. “Please fuck me before my dick falls off.” He wiggles his butt enticingly. 

Minho feels like a kid on Christmas morning, Jisung laid out so perfectly for him with a literal bow on top. His dress is riding up to reveal the curve of his ass, and Minho almost wants to spread him open and eat him out but decides he’s kept him waiting long enough. He deserves to be indulged. 

“On your knees,” Minho instructs and Jisung scrambles to comply, awkwardly shuffling to sit on his knees without the aid of his arms and hands. Minho huffs out a laugh from behind him and he turns to question it only to be met with a hand between his shoulder blades pushing his torso down. “Just this half,” Minho says. Ah. _Ah._

Jisung lets himself be pushed down and down until the side of his face is pressed into the bed. He gazes back at Minho expectantly, grinning when he catches him eyeing his ass and licking his lips. 

“Like what you see, baby?” Jisung asks, voice dropping an octave in the way he knows makes Minho crazy. 

“You’ve got a big mouth for someone who’s tied up and completely at my mercy,” Minho says dryly, sliding the skirt of Jisung’s dress off his ass completely, gravity doing its part to keep it that way with his ass so high in the air. 

“You love my big mouth,” Jisung retorts, doing his damnedest to angle his head and watch Minho slick himself up with more lube, his eyelashes fluttering at the feeling. _Fuck,_ Jisung wishes he could touch himself. He shakes his ass again, willing Minho to touch it, touch him, fuck him, give him _something._

He’s rewarded with a sharp smack on his ass that makes him jolt forward with a gasp, cock twitching. “Please,” he whimpers.

“What are you begging for now?” Minho asks, feigning annoyance. “This?” He rears his hand back, delivering another slap over the reddening mark and Jisung cries out, spine contorting to arch impossibly further.

“Or this?” Minho asks, sliding his cock along the cleft of Jisung’s ass. 

“Please, please, please,” Jisung prattles on, rocking his hips back. “Yes, please.”

“It wasn’t a yes or no question, Jisungie,” Minho says airily, tone deceptively sweet. There’s still the strain to his voice that Jisung is all too familiar with, the desperation bubbling up within, hidden behind his calm front. He wants this just as badly; Jisung just needs to get him to crack. “Which is it you want?”

Minho smacks his ass again, and _fuck_ getting him to crack first because Jisung is so fucking desperate he throws his pride to the wind and gives his shame to god. He will literally do anything to get off at this point. 

_“Both,”_ he groans, near tears. “Please fuck me, baby, _please,_ please, fucking _hurts—_ ”

“Shh,” Minho soothes, smoothing a gentle hand over the stinging patch of skin on his ass before giving it another sudden smack as he pushes back in all at once, making Jisung practically convulse beneath him and let out a pornographic moan. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m gonna take care of you.”

“Please,” leaves Jisung’s lips again unbidden in a choked whimper as he rocks his hips back onto Minho. Minho even reaches around to pump him lazily, a reparation of sorts for all the teasing he’s endured. Jisung feels his legs shaking already from the stimulation as Minho rocks into him slowly, soft moans leaving his lips. 

“You did so well,” Minho breathes, removing his hand from Jisung’s cock. He whines at the loss but decides against complaining when Minho’s hands grab at his hips to help pound into him faster. “So good for me.”

Jisung hums happily, the sound dwindling into a moan when Minho angles his movements down a bit, just barely brushing against his prostate with each thrust. 

“A-Ah, Minho,” he cries, trying to coax Minho into doing it again by letting his knees slip towards him, lowering himself as much as he can without collapsing. It proves to be damn hard with his weak legs and Minho pounding into him so relentlessly, but _fuck_ he’s been hard for so long, he _needs_ it. Minho feels so good that he registers drool beginning to pool on the comforter around his open mouth.

Minho swears under his breath at the sight, at Jisung looking so fucked out because of him, and drives himself in harder. His muscles on fire but he burns with the desire for release, for Jisung to cry out his name in pleasure when he comes, to nuzzle into him, spent. 

He can tell Jisung isn’t close just yet but Minho himself is in danger so he slows his thrusts and focuses his attention briefly on Jisung’s cock. 

“Minho,” he whines, turning his head towards him, kitty headband askew. “Harder.”

“Just… gimme a second,” he pants. “You feel too good.”

Jisung groans but settles for thrusting lightly into Minho’s fist for now while the older catches his breath and his sanity. 

And then Jisung’s phone rings. 

He lifts his head to check the caller ID. “It’s Seungmin. Can you grab it?”

Minho balks at him. “Are you serious? We’re kind of in the middle of something.”

“Well _you’re_ taking a breather anyway,” Jisung huffs, straining in his makeshift handcuffs. “We’re like an hour late. They might be worried.”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Minho grumbles, prickling with annoyance. He leans over to grab the phone anyway, because he’s sure they’ll just spam Jisung with calls until they get answers. He puts it on speaker and places it by Jisung’s head, stifling a giggle at the sight, then he wipes the sweat off his forehead and pushes his damp hair back while he watches the chaos unfold. 

_“Hello?”_ comes Seungmin’s voice, metallic over the speaker. _“Where are you guys?”_

“We’re at home!” Jisung chirps, a little hoarse but otherwise sounding none the worse for wear. Minho will have to amend that. He smirks and repositions himself back at Jisung’s entrance, kneading his ass. Jisung shoots him a warning glance. “We’re running a little late.”

_“Obviously. Any idea when you’ll be here?”_

“Um…” Jisung takes a shaky breath and squeezes his eyes shut, trying not to give away that Minho is now pushing back inside him, smiling when Jisung glares at him. Cheeky bastard. “Not—not really, why?”

_“We were gonna see if you guys would stop and grab some ice, maybe some more soda? Hyunjin hogged it all, you know how he can’t handle drinking shit straight.”_

“Aha… yeah, I’m sure we can, no problem,” Jisung says, sounding undeniably unnatural. “We shouldn’t be, uh, too much longer.”

 _“Okay,”_ Seungmin says. A beat passes. _“Is everything okay?”_

“Mhmm,” Jisung hums, clamping down on his bottom lip so as to not let an embarrassing sound slip past. “Minho had a wardrobe malfunction, but uh, we’re— _ah,”_ he fails to repress a moan when Minho fucks into him harder. Jisung’s face is on fire, and he _really_ really hates that he doesn’t even mind what’s happening all that much. “We’re… _mm,_ coming though, we’re definitely coming, yeah.”

There is a pregnant pause in which Jisung holds his breath while Minho holds back laughter.

 _“I bet,”_ Seungmin finally says. Then he says distantly, like he’s facing away from the phone, _“They’re fucking again!”_

A dissonant mixture of cheering and booing (but mostly booing) erupts from the rest of their friends while Jisung flushes.

 _“I told you!”_ a muffled, distinctly Changbin-sounding voice yells.

 _“Put on a video call, Minnie!”_ Definitely Hyunjin.

 _“You’re on speaker, by the way,”_ Seungmin adds, to Jisung’s chagrin. 

“All of you can suck my dick, we are not— _fuck,”_ Jisung gasps as Minho brings a spit-slick hand to his cock and starts jacking him off. 

_“It sounds like someone’s got it covered.”_

_“Those two make me wanna vomit.”_

_“I think that’s the alcohol…”_

_“Hurry it up lovebirds!”_

Jisung groans, growing increasingly embarrassed at the chorus of his friends who he has to face soon after they’ve all heard him getting fucked over the phone. “Okay bye see you soon!” he rushes out, pressing the end call button with his nose and burying his face in the covers in an attempt to pout, but all he manages to do is muffle his moans. That won’t do. 

Minho unties his rather impressive bow-slash-cuffs combo, freeing Jisung’s hands and flipping him over onto his back, dragging him close by his thighs so he can fuck him at a better angle and see his face, a little red at the side from where it had been pressed into the mattress.

Jisung’s now-free hands fly up to drag down his face. “I hate you.”

“You love me,” Minho singsongs, pumping Jisung languidly as he pushes back through his slick entrance with a grunt he fails to bite back. “You also like everyone knowing how good you’re getting fucked.”

Jisung’s eyes widen and ears burn in embarrassment and something _else_ he dare not name, but he schools his expression into something infuriatingly smug as he smirks up at Minho. “Who said it was good?”

(Jisung did, actually. Many times.)

“Oh, is it not?” Minho asks, voice positively dripping with fake sympathy. His hips snap harder, then, allowing himself to play right into Jisung’s hands. “I’m sorry, princess.”

Jisung didn’t think he could get any more desperately aroused, but the nickname coupled with the intensity with which Minho manhandles him into a better position pushes him so much closer to the edge that he can’t gather up the strength to keep up his teasing front. Minho’s grip is firm on his thighs as he takes advantage of Jisung’s flexibility to practically fold him in half, knees at his chest and feet dangling over Minho’s shoulders while Minho fucks into him at an angle that has his eyes rolling back in his head.

“Oh _fu-uck,”_ he cries, toes curling and every muscle in his body tensing with the desire to come. “Fuck, right there. So good.”

Minho makes a sound somewhere between a hum of amusement at the sudden change of attitude and a moan as the pressure builds within him like a dam on the verge of breaking. 

“Yeah? Right there?” The teasing lilt to his voice is almost lost in his own pleasure, in the lewd sound of skin against skin, the mattress thumping against its frame, Jisung crying out and so overwhelmed from pleasure that tears prick at his eyes as Minho redoubles his efforts.

A string of breathy curses and babbling along the lines of _yes, feels so good, so good to me_ falling from Jisung’s lips tells Minho he’s close before he has the chance to vocalize it. Minho wraps his hand around Jisung’s cock and jerks him off hastily in time with his thrusts while the younger’s moans grow ever more desperate and he clambers for something to hold onto, settling on Minho’s arms. 

“F-Fuck, ah, Minho, I’m gonna—can I—”

“Come for me, love.”

And that’s all it takes for the pressure that’s been building in Jisung for what feels like _forever_ reaches its peak and sends waves of relief and pleasure through his body, making him spasm underneath Minho, rocked by the sheer force of his orgasm and Minho continuing to chase his release. 

The sound of Jisung’s wanton moan when he comes, coating Minho’s hand and the inside of his dress, the way his warmth clenches and flutters around Minho, and his _face,_ so blissed out and jaw slack all have Minho’s hips stuttering mere seconds later. He comes with a breathy moan, spilling inside Jisung with fingers dug into his thighs hard enough to bruise.

“Fuck,” Minho whispers, nudging Jisung’s legs off of his shoulders and not bothering to pull out before collapsing on top of him, dazedly bringing his own hand to his mouth to lick Jisung’s cum off. If Jisung's body weren’t impossibly heavy and he hadn’t potentially just come harder than ever before in his life, he’d jump Minho’s bones at the sight. 

Minho smiles at him sweetly like he hadn’t indeed just fucked Jisung within an inch of his life, pressing their lips together loosely while gingerly bringing a hand to Jisung’s face and wiping a tear he didn’t even realize had fallen.

“Oh my god,” Jisung mumbles, wiping at the tear that had streaked down the other side of his face.

 _“Who said it was good?”_ Minho mocks his earlier words in a petulant tone, making Jisung bark out a laugh.

“Shut up. You know I was fucking with you.” Jisung pulls him in for another kiss, neither of them having energy left to do much more than slide their lips together lazily. “You _do_ know I was fucking with you, right? It was… really good. I feel like I should thank you.”

“I know.” Minho smirks, trailing kisses down his jaw and neck, absentmindedly tracing patterns on Jisung’s skin through the cut of fabric on his chest. “Seeing you so pretty and desperate is thanks enough.”

Jisung scoffs, flushing. “Like you’re any better!”

“At least I don’t _cry_ —”

“I didn’t mean to!” Jisung squeaks, and Minho lifts his head again to look him in the eye. 

“I’m just teasing. It’s hot,” he says earnestly, giving a reassuring kiss that Jisung happily melts into.

“I’ll probably have to redo my makeup now though.” Jisung sighs dramatically. It’s smudged a bit; not too bad, but just enough to make him look beautifully debauched. Minho puts a stop to that train of thought.

“You still want to go?” Minho half-whines, nuzzling back into the crook of Jisung’s neck. “Can’t we just sleep?”

Jisung considers it for a moment, with Minho so warm around him in the comfort of their bed, exhaustion from their little activity settling in his bones. He shakes it off though (reluctantly), the promise of drinks and a fun night with friends on the line.

“Baby, we’ve been looking forward to this for weeks,” Jisung pouts, running a hand through Minho’s hair in a way that makes him want to pass out on the spot. “Plus the others would never let us live it down.”

“They’re already not going to,” Minho points out. “When they see your outfit it’s just gonna be worse.”

Jisung snickers, a clear picture of everyone’s knowing looks and shit-eating grins when they realize exactly why the couple had been so late flashing in his mind. Sure, they _heard_ why, but he thinks seeing the dress will put some of the humiliation on Minho’s shoulders, at least. He’ll be sure to make it clear that Minho started it.

“They’re probably all already drunk,” Jisung dismisses. “It’ll be fine. C’mon, we need to get cleaned up.”

Minho whines. “Fifteen minutes.”

“Five.”

“Ten.”

“Ten,” Jisung relents, running a hand through Minho’s hair and earning a satisfied hum that fills him with love.

And when Minho comes out of the bathroom half an hour later in his stupid little sexy cat getup that had also been a secret until now, Jisung almost wishes he’d agreed to stay home.

“Oh, we are _so_ having a round two when we get back,” are the first words that leave Jisung’s mouth when he sees him, his mind running wild with plans for payback for all his boyfriend’s prior teasing, his pretty kitten sprawled out beneath him, pliant and needy and—fuck. Those thoughts will have to wait; he literally _just_ finished cleaning cum off his dress.

Minho has no arguments there, and he’s even glad they decided to go to the party despite his tiredness and the fact that their friends spent the entirety of it poking fun at them. If they hadn’t gone, he’d never have dolled up and put on those clip-on cat ears and tail and skintight clothes that made Jisung practically drool over him well into the night. 

They also might not have discovered the extent of the whole _cat_ thing, which would be a damn shame because it also gave Minho the best orgasm he’d had in a long time—coupled with Jisung edging him as _revenge,_ of course.

They were so completely and utterly drained by the end of it, still a little buzzed from the party and sated from their second mind-blowing orgasms of the night, they passed out the moment their heads hit the pillows and were as good as dead to the world until well past noon when a chorus of hungry meows resurrected them.

Needless to say, their Halloween costumes won’t be going into storage this year.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope y'all enjoyed and if you didn't i apologize on behalf of the demon that possessed me when i wrote this. kudos/comments appreciated tho!!
> 
> also i recently made this pseud for exclusively pwps but won't be posting here much. shameless self promo check out my main pseud if you're interested in my sfw stuff and/or the one porn With plot fic i'll hopefully have up soon sdkfjhs  
> thanks for reading~


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